The One About Mr Tricycle and Mr I-Take-a-Bike-to-Bed
by FrankandJoe3
Summary: On his days off, it isn't unusual for Dick to go to school with Wally.


Gotham Academy, like most private schools in New York, ran on a schedule to better suit its students needs. The children need only attend the days that their classes are held and many options were held online, making it possible for a student to never need to actually set foot on campus until graduation. It was convenient for most parents, seeing that they now had the opportunity to base their child's schedule around their own work hours. The online option made it incredibly easy for parents with hectic schedules, too, quite like Bruce Wayne.

Bruce's work hours were spontaneous and often decided the night before, but he had managed to keep Dick's schedule at a steady Monday, Wednesday, Friday routine. He knew the importance of habits and constancy when it came to monotonous tasks like school attendance, as well as trying to balance it with their life of vigilance.

Occasionally, Dick wouldn't attend school for months on end as he nursed wounds and injuries that could tie him to his alter ego, but he was relatively constant in upholding his schedule. Whether he viewed it as his duty or more of a convenience to friends who needed to get a hold of him, it was the equivalent of justice to his civilian life.

That being said, when Wally heard that his school's annual talent show was being hosted on a Tuesday, he didn't hesitate in mentioning it.

It wasn't unusual for Dick to be seen in Central City High School. In fact, most students just assumed he was a new kid who they didn't have any classes with. It wasn't that hard to believe with the massive size of their graduating class. It was easy to overlook students. Even the office didn't look twice when Dick forged a signature on the sign in sheet and asked for a pass to a class he obviously didn't need to attend. Sometimes, he would sneak into one of Wally's classes to help him on a project or a worksheet, and the teacher would greet him as though he had always been there.

The only people who ever suspected anything were some of Wally's closer friends, but that was only because he had introduced Dick to them by first name. They knew right off that no son of Bruce Wayne's would be attending a public school, no matter how many times he insisted that he wasn't his son.

"You live with him. That's close enough to blood for me."

When he got out of the passenger side of Wally's car and walked in the front door beside him, he smiled at the kids who thought they recognized him and they both made their way to the cafeteria. That was the morning congregation of Central City High School. Before classes started, kids would wander the halls and catch up, be it conversation or homework, or they would huddle up in the cafeteria. The only kids who didn't were the shy kids who didn't have many friends to talk to, and they would be there in the classroom thirty minutes before school started.

At best, the round tables could fit sixteen kids, but no willing high school student was giving up that much butt room, so twelve was the maximum in the mornings. When Wally brought Dick, a kid would have to sacrifice their seat.

"It's comfy," Dick would insist every time Wally apologized for the state of his school, knowing what his friend was used to. "I wear a suit every day, on the job and off it. It's nice to just wear a t-shirt every once in a while."

Today in particular as the two went in, the cafeteria was packed full of kids all ready for the day to be over. The Talent Show was hosted on a half day, as were most big class-interrupters, but if you missed it, 2% was docked from your grade. It didn't take a detective to see that most of the kids in the room needed that 2%. Despite the crowd size, the two easily found a spot among Wally's friends and settled in nicely.

Dick was nursing a cut lip and more scrapes than his concealer could cover up and he was going out of his way to not acknowledge it, smiling to the wide eyes directed his way. Wally was sporting a limp that he couldn't disguise and had an ugly bruise running along his jaw. Immediately, everyone at the table wanted to know what happened.

The younger of the two shook his head with a small smile, trying to dissuade their interest, but Wally had a story to tell and he wasn't letting a few rules get in his way. His grin outgrew his face and he leaned forward on the table, drawing the others to lean forward too.

"Right, so last night, me and my buddy here got a call from Batman- Joker's goons are down at First National Bank. He wanted us to reroute 'em. Easy stuff, you know," he started, saying it as casually as it felt to him.

Immediately, Dick nudged him and tightened his eyes in a warning, but Wally gave him a wink and for some reason, he found himself worrying a little less.

"Blow it out your ass, West," one of the beefier guys said, as if on cue.

The redhead gave the briefest of a smirk and returned the nudge, getting Dick to murmur a little, "Shut up," with a shake of his head.

"No, no, hear me out. So me and Dicky here... he ah, he gets on his motorcycle- Wayne Tech stuff, man. Bikes pretty enough to take to bed," that earned a laugh around the table, and a few comments about how he _would_ be the one to take a bike to bed that he silenced with a wave of his hand. "I'm coming up behind on my feet, what with my super speed. I'm pretty incredible. Lapped his bike when he was gunning at least 90."

His friend leaned back with a little grin, confidence slowly growing. "90? What do you think I'm riding? A tricycle? I had to be nearly 200. Bruce wouldn't give me kid stuff."

"Bruce?" one kid murmured to another.

"He's Wayne Tech's kid," the other explained.

Dick gave a little confirming smile, deciding against correcting the title. He didn't want them actually putting any thought into their conversation right now. It was obvious they didn't believe the story, and he wanted to keep it that way. Broadening the smile, he looked back to Wally to see just where he was taking this.

"Alright, so we're gunning it down to the bank and there's at least fifty of them. Big guys, ski masks, waving these big guns around... compensating probably. Place is on fire, sirens everywhere... messy stuff. So we have to get these guys out of here, right? Hostages stuffed somewhere and we didn't want them getting hurt. Kinda hurts the reputation," he looked down at his friend with a little grin, brushing back his hair with a little glint in his eyes.

The blue eyes opposite them mirrored it exactly. This job never allowed you to talk about it with anyone outside the job, and they had all been there, so it wasn't fun. Talking like this, even if it sounds like they're making stuff up, made them feel so incredibly powerful. They were risking their identities, the team, and so many others... and these kids were laughing.

"Maybe not fifty guys, but it's up there. Batman always has us handling goons like this and man, nothing's worse than guys with nothing to lose. One bad step and your brain's all over the wall," Dick stepped in, bringing his hand up to unconsciously poke his cut lip. "Dummy here went right in and was running circles, trying to get a gun of his own. He needs more compensation than anyone in there did."

Wally gave a little laugh as he lightly punched his friend's shoulder. "Don't get me started on compensation. Your parents had to _name _you Dick so people would know you have one!"

Dick's jaw dropped with the slightest of a grin as the table roared with laughter. He tried to think of a comeback, but humor and his parents weren't topics that mixed easily. His lips pressed together and he flinched at the contact, averting his eyes as he waited for the whirlwind to pass him by. Six years should've been enough time to move on, but some scars never heal completely. When Wally noticed, he gently patted the other's shoulder, brow tightening.

"Sorry," he said quietly and Dick shrugged it off with a shake of his head.

"S'all good," he insisted quietly, gesturing him to go on with the story.

"While I was disarming the baddies, Mr. Tricycle here makes a human target of himself. Throw a few firecrackers and you become pretty popular. A few more tosses and we had a big portion of them coming after us. Maybe a handful stayed back, but without their weapons, the guards could get 'em. Right. So. Highway chase. We've got these guys after us in these big armored vehicles- and that's where our plan kind of stopped. They had guns in their trucks. We didn't," he rubbed his neck sheepishly.

"How'd you get fireworks into a bank?" a girl leaned over from the adjoining table, the doubt pretty clear in her expression.

Dick looked over and gave her a grin. "Fifty guys were already in there with machine guns. They're not going to blink at a few pretty colors."

Her doubt stayed, but she seemed amused all the same at his answer. It seemed now that they had a few tables enthralled with their 'bullshit story', and it was easy to keep it going.

"So these trucks are all after us, shooting and doing their business, and we're both panicking because we don't want to be shot. Crazy, right? So Dick here's trying to get a hold of Batman and the guy isn't picking up. I get that he has a city to save, justice to do, but we did our half and we'd like to get out of it alive. We don't even know where we're taking these guys. Off the highway preferably, but they're fast and they're pretty smart. Then, genius here, realizes that his bike's almost out of gas. I can piggy back him for a while, but not with all these trucks shooting us. Batman's still not picking up, so we're screwed, right?"

Dick nudges him and Wally nods, letting him take the story with a little grin.

"The battery was low, not the gas, by the way. Wayne Tech doesn't use fuel. Anyway, yeah, my bike's dying and we're running out of options. End of the line, so I decide we're going out swinging. We can't take on trucks, but people? I can do people, unlike Mr. I-Take-Bikes-To-Bed over here. Basically, I jump off the bike. This guy, I swear, his eyes go out of his head. He thinks I'm friggin' nuts-"

"Because you are."

"-and nobody asked you. My bike spirals out and the front two trucks collide when they try to avoid it. Big pile up starting and we take off on feet. A few have the mind to go around, but they can't keep up when we go off the highway to the brush down beneath it. Then we've got maybe forty or so guys with crowbars and tire irons all around us, ready to kick our ass. Batman's sworn us off and we're good as dead. I thought this guy was gonna pee himself."

"I kind of wish I had. Who wants to attack a guy who's covered in pee?"

"They're psychopaths, dude."

"Even psychopaths have morals."

Dick's tongue pressed between his teeth in his grin and he shook his head, handing the story back over with a breath of a laugh.

"They all come at us. Strong guys, too. Got some nasty stuff on my back, but this kid here's a ninja. They tried to hit him and he ends up with two different weapons and six guys at his feet while I'm getting bruises that I'm going to be feeling until I'm fifty. He hands me this metal thing... probably a dildo or something, man, I wasn't seeing straight."

"I don't think any guy's thinking straight with a dildo in his hand," Dick shot, cracking a smirk.

Wally opened his mouth to argue, but shut it and pointed an accusing finger, a silent promise that he'd remember that. When the snickering stopped, he went on.

"So we're taking on these forty some with our metal dildos, right? I'm getting pummeled and this... _asshole_... hasn't been hit once. Some kind of force shield or something, I don't know. Right when we're- well, he- is getting stuff done, Batman decides to call. Dick got nailed in the face. Kinda funny. Batman says he's on his way and to hold them off a little longer, that the people at the bank are safe and then he just hangs up. I swear, this little cutie's got the biggest damn mouth on him. I think he actually startled the thugs with what he was throwing out, and it helped him back up. It actually got a little harder when there were fewer of them. They were stumbling over each other before and now we were tripping on their bodies."

"We get down to maybe twelve and I'm done. It's hard to see and I was positive I was missing teeth, so I pick this loser up and we're piggy backing back up to the highway. We let out the air in the tires of their good trucks and we're running up to meet Batman. He can handle the meat heads and be a human punching bag for a while. What do I care, right? We're going and I don't know what happened, but I forget how to run and we're on the ground. His face is bleeding and I can't move my foot. Christ, we were laughing up until Batman pulled up. He chewed out hotshot here for dumping the bike and then goes and beats the crap out of the last few guys with a blink or something. And ah, that's how all this happened."

The chorus of 'bullshit' and its synonyms fell all over the two and they grinned as wide as they had been grinning when Batman had found them last night.

"You could've just said you fell. Save your brain the effort of having to think that much. Probably isn't used to all that work," one person teased Wally.

He rolled his eyes with a confident smirk, nodding along. The tables exploded off into conversation as the bell rang, releasing everyone to their homeroom for attendance. Dick went with Wally, offering his shoulder to the limping redhead.

"I'm just glad these morons don't watch the news. You could've screwed us over," the youngest shook his head with a little smile.

Wally looked down with a smile of his own. "Hey now, I changed some stuff. I only said fifty guys."

Dick gave a breathy laugh at the mention. "Yeah; I'd have given my right foot for it to have just been fifty. You always tell these guys our missions?"

He shrugged. "Maybe."

"How about inviting me up next time you do? It felt kinda good to tell someone about it."

"Try going to a public school."

"What do you think I'm doing right now?"

"Bothering me."

"I'll remember that the next time you're in Calculus."

"You play rough. I like it."

"Shut up and hobble."

* * *

**-F.J. III**


End file.
